Steampunk Holmes: Legacy of the Nautilus (9 page)

“I see. Pray continue your most interesting narrative.”

“You can understand my confusion at that time, Mr Holmes. I knew not whether she had any part in her brother's affairs, or even any knowledge of them; how could I trust this girl, who was so dear to me and yet so near a relation to one who must needs become my sworn foe? Such thoughts were utterly unworthy of her, I knew, but in my distress, my heart was torn between my love and my doubts. Even if she knew nothing of her brother's doings, how could I exact revenge upon one of her own kin, and yet retain her love? I struggled for a long while, though I attempted to conceal my thoughts from her.

“She is an intuitive soul, however, and having guessed that something troubled me deeply, she begged me to confide in her. At last I yielded to her insistence, and told her all that I had discovered. Then it was, Mr Holmes, that I regretted my previous mistrust. So sympathetic was she, and so moved in heart over the calamity that had befallen my family, at the hand of her brother, that she swore to assist me in any way she could to right the wrong that had been done me, even if it meant renouncing her own flesh and blood. Ah, words cannot describe the great load that was lifted from my spirit when I beheld her pain on my behalf. We were glad then that we had never openly associated ourselves with one another, as that gave us greater freedom to work together unhindered.

“As soon as her term at the Ladies' Academy ended, she returned to England, and set about trying to discover how the plans might be recovered. Her brother was most reticent and protective about his work, and never allowed her into his confidence, though she exerted all her womanly and sisterly influence to gain any information which might assist us in our plans.

“There was, however, a young man in the employ of her brother, who assiduously courted her whenever they chanced to meet. So dedicated was Victoria to my cause, she condescended, at great cost to her pride and even our future happiness, to become engaged to this man, Cadbury, for she believed it to be the surest way of getting at the Engine cards which contained the Nautilus' plans. Her loyalty, self-sacrifice, and pure nobility of character endeared her to me all the more; I have no doubt she would have seen through the marriage to the fellow, and stayed true to him—though she did not love him in the least—if it had been necessary in order to help me regain my lost heritage. A finer woman never walked the earth, Mr. Holmes.”

“Pray go on. We know that you kept in touch with each other by advertisement in The
Daily Telegraph
. Why?”

“At first we wrote letters. But Cadbury was of a suspicious, jealous nature, and kept a watch on her every move, often by bribing her servants, who, it appeared were in the habit of searching through her things and reading her mail. As she lived in her brother's house, her position was doubly compromised, and should our connection be discovered and my identity revealed, it could only have meant disaster. Therefore—for I had by this time taken up residence in London—we decided to use the personal column of
The Daily Telegraph
to keep in touch.”

“And you scheduled your coup for Monday night.”

“We did.”

“I believe I can tell you what happened then,” said Holmes, leaning back in his chair and half-closing his eyes. “Do check me if I am in error upon any point. Miss Valentine broke into the Arsenal Office at around eight o'clock, having first provided herself with copies of her brother's keys, which by taking a wax impression was easily done. Having purloined the cards, she proceeded to your house in Kensington, as planned, never dreaming that she had been followed.

“Arthur Cadbury, who happened to walk by the Offices on his way to his tryst with Miss Valentine, observed--for there is a significant crack between the shutters--that a light had been lit within the office. Instantly suspicious, but not wishing to unduly alarm the guards unnecessarily—for it might have been the chief at work—he crept through the yew hedge, and peering through this breach, spotted Miss Valentine inside. Instead of confronting her immediately, he decided to follow her and discover where she was taking the cards. He proceeded to dog her from a distance, arriving at last at your house in Kensington, where he observed her meeting with you. A violent scene ensued, during the course of which Arthur Cadbury met his death, very likely by accident and not by premeditated design.

“Faced with the disagreeable necessity of disposing of his corpse, you opted to place it atop one of the trains which, by happy coincidence, pass not five feet below your window. A man of your physique and length of arm should have found it no great exertion. Another stroke of genius, which might have fooled nearly anyone, was the idea of slipping the Engine cards of lesser importance into the dead man's pocket, and so giving rise to the assumption that he had stolen the cards himself, and met his end while attempting to dispose of them. Using your personal Babbage Engine, you were able to first ascertain which of the cards contained the most vital plans.”

The set face and steady gaze of Pierre Nemo told us that Holmes' deductions had not missed their mark. Holmes continued after a brief pause.

“From your last messages, I gather that Miss Valentine was to have immediately gone away with you, having obtained the cards. Shocked, however, at the grisly death of her alleged fiancé, for whom she may have had a modicum of sympathy—even the best of women are often susceptible in that respect, you know— she judged herself too upset to fly, and begged a few days' grace, in order that she should not be suspected as his murderess. Quite sensible, too; if she had happened to disappear on the same night as Cadbury's death, a search for her would have been instituted at once, tongues would have doubtless wagged in profusion, and her honor might have been forfeited. As she did not wish to immediately sever all ties with family and country, she returned home, and pretended that her fiancé had run away suddenly, leaving her stranded in the fog. An unlikely story, and yet by its own unusualness difficult to disbelieve.

“By the way, why did Miss Valentine steal the cards on the very evening in which she was supposed to have accompanied Cadbury to the theater?”

“It was meant as a blind,” replied Nemo quietly. “How could we suspect that his way would bring him past the Offices where he worked?”

“And wouldn't Miss Valentine have been framed for the crime of theft? Surely her brother would have suspected her if she and the cards disappeared on the same night.”

“That had to be risked. I could not bear to go away and leave Victoria behind, even for a moment. We are anxious to be married among my own people, and Victoria was quite sure that, even if her brother suspected that she had taken the cards, he would keep her secret to avoid soiling the family's honor.”

“Ah, we proceed to another festering mystery. What light can you shed upon the mysterious and sudden death of Sir James Valentine yesterday morning?”

“None, except what Victoria told me of his letter. He did not give her much detail, but he intimated that one of his department had made off with their most valuable information, and as he was himself head of the department, ultimately accountable for the loss, he could not bear to live with himself, and did not wish to stain his sister's presence with his own disgrace. It was a severe blow to her, poor darling; for she loved him despite his reprehensible actions. I gather that he had always been a good and kind brother to her.”

“Yes, so it appears, by all accounts. And yet, considering this man's character, it seems odd, does it not, that he should elicit suicide rather than immediately counter the disgrace by actively searching for the lost cards.”

“Who can know the inner workings of the heart, Mr. Holmes? Perhaps this man had secret sorrows, which, added to this recent calamity, he found he could not bear. Who can say? For myself, I had no wish to harm the man; I was content to retrieve the legacy that my father had left to me, for I alone am entitled to it. I would not have lifted a hand against him who would soon have been my near kinsman.”

“Well, well, let it be as you say for the present. For my part, I shall not let the matter drop until I have learned the truth. One last question, Mr. Nemo, if I may. How came a gang of fierce Rajput warriors to intercept us at your house last night?”

“To answer your question, I must relate some details of my family's history. As I told you, my father was of a noble house in India. When he was driven from his ancestral lands, he attempted to find closure in his studies of the sciences, and to this end allied himself with an eminently erudite acquaintance of his, who, I may say, even now cherishes my father's memory with the greatest respect, and who has honored me with his guardianship. It was from this kind friend that I learned many details of my father's life during that period, for the burden of the past weighed very heavily on my father's soul, and he scarcely spoke to me at all of what he called his broken years. From what I was able to learn, my father found that even his friend's kindnesses to him could not efface the growing rage in his soul against the evils of humanity. He severed his ties, and, taking with him men who, equally disgusted with the despotism and tyranny of Man, had placed themselves under his leadership, he sought refuge and solace in the only place where Man's dominion had never prevailed. Having built the Nautilus in secret, he and his men abandoned the dry earth and resigned themselves to a purely nautical and submarine existence. There were, however, among my father's former retainers a band of warriors, of the ancient order of Rajputs, who, though allied in heart to my father, could not bear to part with their sacred traditions, and chose to remain on land. The Rajputs are a fiercely secretive clan, and they were Captain Nemo's only link with the inhabited world while he was at unmitigated enmity with it.

“When many years later my father found, among a group of shipwrecked survivors whom he had rescued, the wife and child he had lost so many years before, he reconciled with terra firma so far as to anchor the Nautilus in the bay of the uninhabited island which became our home. The Rajputs, learning of my father's good fortune, came to our island and made their abode with us, pledging never again to detach themselves from my family's side. I was made apprentice to their ancient arts, for it was my father's wish, and while I excelled under their tutelage, they became not only my instructors, but my boon companions. They serve me now with the same fierce devotion they tendered my father while he was alive, and I have a company of them at my disposal here, each man of which I count as a personal friend. I deeply grieve the loss of the nine who sought to defend my property last night. Eight were killed, were they not? What has become of the ninth?”

“He is in custody.”

“Wounded?”

“Yes, but not mortally so. I do not like to permanently disable my opponents, no matter how fierce, when I have no direct quarrel with them. And now, Mr. Nemo, though your tale is a moving one, I fear that there are conventionalities that must be attended to. The British Navy Arsenal has been bereft of its most cherished secret, and two of its upstanding keepers have been found dead; as our laws stand, I am afraid that you have much to answer for, and that before a proper Court of Law. I am myself a consulting detective, unaligned with the official forces, therefore the matter is not within my hands to judge. I ask you, sir, whether as a gentleman, you will submit your arms and accompany me peaceably, or if you prefer … well, shall we say, the alternative.”

“I say nothing more, nor submit myself, willingly or otherwise,” said Nemo, “until I have seen Victoria, and received your pledge that she shall be spared from all prosecution. Surely it is plain that she has suffered enough already, and that she is no criminal. The culpability of any transgression on her part must be laid entirely at my feet.”

“I may grant your first request with ease,” replied Holmes. “The dismissal of all charges against Miss Valentine, however, must be discussed among other circles. Let me assure you, Mr Nemo, that I will personally see that Justice, in its purest form, is accomplished in this case, for my own honor is at stake. If Miss Valentine is not guilty of any crime, which shall quickly be ascertained or disproved, you have no cause to fear for her.”

Holmes, resuming the harsh tones of Captain Basil, bellowed heartily for a garçon, and handed the fellow a slip of paper upon which he had hastily scrawled a line.

“Take this wit' my compliments to the dolly 'oo passed just now; she in the fancy black furs.”

“Righ' away, Cap'n,” replied the waiter, and turned with a bawdy grin to execute his mission.

Holmes stretched his long legs, and with an attitude of perfect impassiveness and relaxation, pulled out his cigarette case.

“I see that you are a smoking man, Mr Nemo. Pray, help yourself.” Holmes lit a cigarette and took to earnestly studying his pocket-watch, while Mr Nemo and I each took a cigarette and smoked in silence. Presently Holmes raised his head.

“Ah, here they come now.”

We turned our heads in the direction of Holmes' glance and beheld the tall, elegant figure of Mycroft Holmes, accompanied by the younger lady who had passed by our table some time before, whose now-unveiled features proved unmistakably those of Miss Victoria Valentine. They were as unalike to each other as two women can be, yet equally imbued with feminine grace and beauty of figure and motion; they turned every eye along their path, though neither lady appeared to take any notice of the attention they garnered as they walked the length of the club towards our table.

When they were but a few yards away, Miss Valentine's gentle gaze froze upon my companion, and horror washed her countenance like an equinoctial gale on the deck of a galley. I turned to the object of her vision, and saw, to my surprise, Captain Basil returning her stare, a leering grin spread across his swarthy features.